Jason Skinner
While serving in the Army at Fort Drum, NY, I met my wife, Amy, twenty years ago on Memorial Day weekend. I was invited to her family’s cookout and met her mother. Her mom is Steve Czajka’s daughter. She, just like her parents, would attend the parade and serve dinner at the American Legion in Boonville, NY. Lucky for me, they are a very patriotic family.
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Amy introduced me to the humanities. I have grown to appreciate artforms like dance because of her. I found it ironic that the town of Stornara had evolved into an outdoor art exhibit.
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I am a war veteran, and when I am asked why we don’t talk about our experiences, I think about art. Even when a family member or someone else says they will be understanding, we still may not be interested in sharing. We may just be focused on living in the moment. Sometimes we are like artists who use an alias or publish their work anonymously. It boils down to the difficulty in disclosure. They know there will be critics and statements from people who can’t understand the context.
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Almost all memoirs that veterans write omit the civilian population living in the occupied areas of a war zone. The civilians are affected far more than the soldiers. There are a few accounts of people begging and bartering to survive. But the shame of the situation the soldier sees is the lack of humanity war plays out.
Stornara was filled with refugees from Foggia, a nearby city. The Allies bombed it before American troops arrived. Nothing prepares a person to say no to someone who needs food and clothing because, what you have is critical for your mission and your own survival. War is hell.
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I love the concept of Stornara’s art project. The people there have been creative and resilient. If Steve Ckajka could see it now. I wonder if it would be some comfort to know they are doing well.
For me, Stornara gives me hope that the places I experienced in war could have their own renaissance someday.
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I say all this, and it could just be that they're not ready or don’t think you're interested. Who knows.
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I am glad that his memory survives today through the people who remember him.


